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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894276">I can stand it, I can handle it</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietwandering/pseuds/quietwandering'>quietwandering</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Smiths</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Vignette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:29:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25894276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietwandering/pseuds/quietwandering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I can take it, you can feel it</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Johnny Marr/Andy Rourke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I can stand it, I can handle it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just a small excerpt as I write more catboy Moz. Set in current year. &lt;3</p><p>Title is <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpFtqq_7mOs">You Are the Magic</a> by Johnny Marr + The Healers</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I shifted to press another tablet under Andy’s tongue, fingers hooking into his bottom lip before they slipped back out. The sheets were soaked with sweat by this point, but I wasn’t sure how close either of us were to finishing. The back of my thighs burned in an indescribably good way so I figured some kind of end must be in sight.</p><p>God, it just felt so fucking <em>good</em> being back inside of him again - all the long months I had to go without seeing him were always the goddamn worst. All the early morning phone calls, the instant messages, all the pictures he had sent, sprawled out and aching for me - it wasn’t enough. It was never enough until I had his mouth back on mine, where it belonged. “Fuck, <em> Andy </em> -” </p><p>He was tightening up around me, the ecstasy spinning through his head making him eager for me to finish. I twisted my fingers through his hair, yanked his head back enough that I could see the green of his eyes, and pressed my lips to his temple before dragging my tongue down to wrap around his own. It was satisfyingly wet and obscene, like the sound of my cock sliding inside of him - the excess lube letting me fuck him like he was a young, eager lass. </p><p>As my climax neared, I grabbed onto Andy’s arms, pulled him back onto my lap, and sat back on my ankles. I wanted to come inside him just like this, wanted to be as deep inside of him as possible. I dropped my mouth to latch onto his shoulder and shivered as he began to groan in a way that let me know I was rubbing that spot inside of him just right. </p><p>“C’mon. Fuckin’ <em> c’mon</em>, Johnny,” Andy whispered, and I could feel him touching himself. I squeezed my eyes shut in concentration, wrapped my arms tight around his middle, and rapidly pistoned myself inside him to hurry myself along. It was <em> right </em> <em>there</em>, I was so fucking <em> close </em> -</p><p>My hand fumbled to snatch the poppers off the bed, thumbing off the cap and shoving it to the rim to my nose. Just as I breathed in the potent chemicals, I felt my orgasm wash over me in a blissful wave. The bottle slipped from my hand, no doubt wasting most of the fumes left inside, and I clutched at Andy helplessly as the drug heightened all of my senses - I could feel each twitch of my cock, feel the way my balls tightened, could feel each and every spurt of come jetting out of me. It was so good it was almost fucking <em> painful</em>. </p><p>The springs of the bed groaned as I fell back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, my arms sprawled out on either side of me like I was being readied for the crucifix. Andy continued to fuck himself on me until I had to buck him off - I was far too sensitive to keep going at this point despite how much I wished otherwise. He turned to kneel over me instead, his hand flying along his cock until he came across my chest. I laughed, still a bit breathless, and reproachfully pinched his thigh, though he was well aware that I liked it, that I never tired of him marking me as his own.</p><p>Andy sunk to lie on top of me, and I held onto him despite the fact it was way too warm to be comfortable. My vision came back into focus after a few minutes, and I smiled at the contented, happy look on Andy's face, his mouth twisted up in that slight smile of his. I reached to kiss him, just a light touch our lips, and tiredly rolled us to a drier spot on the sheets. We were also the wrong way round, but that was just too hard of a problem to fix right then. Maybe later.</p><p>“My head’s bloody spinnin’,” Andy mumbled, sliding down off my chest with a soft <em>thump</em>. “S’nice though.”</p><p>I thought of all the other, wilder nights we’d had through the years and laughed, pressing a wistful kiss to his forehead. “We’re finally getting too old for this shit, huh?” </p><p>“Nah,” Andy said, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on my sternum. “Just getting into our stride, us two. If Jagger can have his eighth kid at 73 then we can bloody well shag til our 80s.” </p><p>“Point taken,” I said after a moment, trying to imagine what that’d be like. “Might need to stock up some more lube then - we’ll probably be needin’ it, eh?”</p>
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